


Year By Year

by kitadai



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Graduation, Reunions, Translation, seijou third years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22321135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitadai/pseuds/kitadai
Summary: Time really is nothing to fear at all.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	Year By Year

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [年年岁岁](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13276923) by [Feuerlicht](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feuerlicht/pseuds/Feuerlicht). 



Glancing down at his watch, Oikawa finds that he’s arrived fifteen minutes later than their agreed time, though it’s no big deal to him. Even when he was Seijou’s team captain, being late a few times here and there never led to any serious consequences. More importantly, his old coach and supervisor aren’t here anymore to nag him to show up on time‒just his friends, who love to bully and hassle him all the time‒ _which, in a sense,_ he pauses to reconsider, _actually makes them even more difficult to handle than his two former teachers_.

He reaches to push the restaurant door open at the same moment another person stretches a hand out, intending to do the same. Oikawa turns slightly to look at him, his hand pausing in midair when he realizes who it is.

“So it’s you, Iwa-chan! What a coincidence! Long time no see! Makki and Mattsun, they’re probably both already here then, right?”

To be precise, they haven’t seen each other in almost a year. In the time they’ve been apart, Iwaizumi’s profile has grown all the more strong, lending a natural air of maturity. But Oikawa didn’t miss the flicker of hesitation in his expression when their eyes met, as if Iwaizumi wanted to say something but stopped himself in time.

Oikawa smiles as they walk into the restaurant, spotting their two friends sitting at the far table with their chins resting in their hands as they watch Oikawa and Iwaizumi enter together.

“Wow, it’s rare to see Iwaizumi late. Could it be that he got caught up by a certain someone on the way?”

“No, parking just took a bit more time today.”

“We were just waiting for you guys to arrive before ordering. Also, I bet Matsukawa that you would get the _chashu_ ramen, so you better not let me down, Iwaizumi.”

“Nah, Iwaizumi, you’re gonna get the _shoyu_ ramen, aren’t you?”

“Can I just not order either then…”

“Can you guys not ignore me‒” Oikawa whines, feeling his friends’ deliberate inattention, and slaps the table tragically, fake tears in his eyes. The other three, being of one mind, simultaneously burst into laughter.

After graduation, though they’ve all gone their separate ways, they never once stopped holding their annual reunions, as a way to mutually bear witness to the kind of lasting marks that can be made over the passage of one year. The location of these reunions never change, always the same ramen restaurant year after year, where after their final match at Seijou, Oikawa treated the entire team to dinner. Despite many years of rising prices, business there neither boomed nor failed to the point of bankruptcy, and so the restaurant managed to survive tenaciously up until now.

At the first reunion, Iwaizumi, cautious about bringing back unhappy memories for Oikawa or rather, for all four of them, wanted to suggest a different place. But it was Oikawa who first put forward the idea of going to the ramen restaurant, which meant that he’d long since let go of the defeat they suffered that day. Whether they wanted to or not, they would eventually have to leave the past behind‒and whether they liked it or not, not moving forward would only make it more painful for them.

Throughout Oikawa’s volleyball career, he himself enjoyed both glory and countless praises, but he was never once able to lead his Seijou team to the top. Naturally, after that final loss, regret and frustration churned wildly within him like dark water, but once they settled into a richer reservoir that fed his constant need to improve, to grow stronger, to get better, he found that he could turn back to his yesterday’s self and give thanks with a small smile.

The atmosphere surrounding the four as they poke fun at Oikawa and crack light jokes in perfect harmony hasn’t changed from high school. Iwaizumi, planning on driving himself home later, endures endless taunting from the other three as they drunkenly wave their cups in front of him, rippling the amber liquid inside.

Eventually, the alcohol subdues them. They stay until their table is the only one still occupied, leaving only when the restaurant owners shoo them out.

The rustling night wind rushes beneath the thin lapel of Oikawa’s clothes, barely dispersing the haze of alcohol, only making him aware of an oncoming headache and a deep longing for a good night’s sleep.

“I’ll send him home, since it’s on the way.” After saying their goodbyes to Hanamaki and Matsukawa, Iwaizumi turns back to look at Oikawa, who’s still stumbling around on wobbly legs. Without knowing why, he’s always had a feeling that he still is that same Oikawa, who is incapable of taking care of himself without someone nagging after him. The Oikawa who lives vividly in his memories and has occupied most of his years until now. He is the one part of Iwaizumi that, stubbornly, will never be erased. 

Oikawa stares at him blankly for a beat before immediately returning to a face full of cheer, accepting Iwaizumi’s offer without much more thought. The car heater disperses the chilliness of the night and lulls him into a slow, syrupy haze, edging him to the boundary between clear-headedness and muddledness. In this state, he doesn’t want to think about much else. 

This late at night, there are only a few cars on the road, but Iwaizumi still patiently waits at the red light, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel. He stares straight ahead onto the road silently, with no apparent intention to start a conversation.

Between his rush from Tokyo back to Miyagi and his parents being away on vacation, there aren’t many groceries left over at the Oikawa residence, and so Oikawa asks Iwaizumi to stop in front of a convenience store two streets down from his home.

“You can just go home now, Iwa-chan, you don’t have to wait for me. Our place isn’t too far from here, anyways.”

Without waiting for Iwaizumi’s response, Oikawa pushes open the car door, shaking his head to clear his drunkenness, and heads for the convenience store. 

He could already guess the reason for Iwaizumi’s momentary hesitation when they first bumped into each other earlier. Last year, he’d also been in a similar state, mildly tipsy but not yet completely blackout drunk, his body moving one step ahead of his brain. But Oikawa clearly remembers everything he said, everything he did.

He had kissed Iwaizumi.

It was just a light press of his lips against Iwaizumi’s mouth, lasting for no more than five seconds. Iwaizumi didn’t push him away, nor did he mention it afterwards, and Oikawa only gladly played along, pretending to not remember this “drunken incident”. His closest childhood friend was at once familiar and impossible to read, so this year, Oikawa set up the present situation to get his answers.

Even after the “incident”, Iwaizumi still willingly offered to send Oikawa home. Perhaps it was just out of habit, their routine remaining unchanged and untouched by that incident.

Oikawa swipes a few bento boxes, a few packets of instant noodles, and of course, his favourite milk bread from the shelves as he passes. After some additional thought, he grabs some fruits and vegetables as well, before heading to the counter to pay. The store clerk valiantly stifles a yawn, obviously sleepy from his night shift, and bids Oikawa a good night. 

As he walks out of the store, he spots a car in the distance, its lights still running as if illuminating the path back. A lingering warmth seeps into Oikawa’s heart, and he grips his shopping bag tightly. His vision might be blurred from the alcohol, but he knows he isn’t seeing things. 

Iwaizumi is resting his head peacefully against the car window, his eyes closed in quiet repose. Hearing the sound of knocking against his window, his eyes shoot wide open to Oikawa’s familiar, ever punchable grinning face looming over him.

“I just knew that Iwa-chan would definitely wait for me‒”

“If you keep spewing bullshit, then leave,” Iwaizumi says, even as he unlocks the car door to let Oikawa slide in. He knows he would never actually make Oikawa leave.

He turns the key to start the car again, when the engine sputters out suddenly. No matter what they try after that, it refuses to ignite.

After sitting in silence for a minute, Iwaizumi weighs his options and decides to examine the engine himself. 

“…you better just go home first. It’s only two streets away for you anyway,” he says to Oikawa, before getting out of the car.

Oikawa follows him out, too, leaving his shopping bags on the front seat. He walks to Iwaizumi’s side and pokes his head over the opened car hood to peer uselessly at the engine in a great show of apparent concentration.

“How could I leave Iwa-chan here all by his lonesome?” he says. “I don’t have anything else to do, so I might as well just keep you company for a while.”

Iwaizumi ignores him, bending down to fiddle inside the hood, but Oikawa senses he’s silently given him permission to stay. 

“Iwa-chan, you know how to do car repair?”

“Yeah, I self-studied a bit before, but whether or not I’ll be able to fix this will really depend on our luck.”

Oikawa lets out a long hum in surprise. He leans against a streetlight to watch Iwaizumi busy at work with fond interest, a faint smile curving the corners of his mouth. The streetlight weakly casts wide pools of light over the sidewalk, causing their two shadows overlap.

In a brief glance, Iwaizumi notices Oikawa unconsciously pulling his coat tighter around him, and his hands briefly pause in their movements. Without looking at Oikawa, he says, “If you’re cold, go back to the car to wait, dumbass.”

The nearby lights of the residential area begin to go out, one by one. Oikawa’s phone vibrates. Flipping it open, he finds that Hanamaki has sent him the group photo from their reunion. Oikawa stares down at his own cheeky smile. There really wasn't much difference between their group photos from year to year, but this tradition of theirs was more for so-called commemorative purposes anyways‒ _or_ , he thinks, _to record how those barely perceptible changes would be superimposed over the years_.

In the end, Oikawa doesn’t return to the car but luckily, Iwaizumi finishes not long after. In the instant as he is closing the car hood lid, Oikawa grabs him by the shoulder with one hand, propping himself against the top of the car hood with the other‒and without giving Iwaizumi the slightest chance to react, crushes his mouth against Iwaizumi’s.

The smell of gasoline drifts through the air, mingling with the fresh night breeze. Oikawa wrinkles his nose slightly at the odour, but refuses to release his tight hold on Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi doesn’t pull away either, but instead begins to kiss him back firmly. He parts his lips, feeling the chilly night air fill his lungs, only to be replaced immediately in a rush by the heat of Oikawa’s warm breath. 

In fact, Iwaizumi knew all along that Oikawa kissed him intentionally last year, and this year, too, pretending to be completely drunk when he’d actually been the most sober of the group. And Iwaizumi didn’t bring it up afterwards because, for them, it wasn’t necessary. Words wouldn’t change the fact that they understand one another so well that the meaning behind Oikawa’s actions and Iwaizumi’s quiet acceptance is undeniable.

So when they finally separate, they simply meet the other’s eyes in a brief instant and slip back into the car without another word. Iwaizumi re-starts the car and, upon hearing the familiar grumble of the engine, lets out an inward sigh of relief. As he fastens his seatbelt, he asks, “When are you going back to Tokyo?”

“Hm? Probably next week?” Oikawa tilts his head, counting down the passing days on his fingers, then adds in a flurry, “But if Iwa-chan wants me to stay a little longer, that’s okay too.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond to that, though he seems to be deep in thought, deliberating over something to say to Oikawa. As soon as the idling engine is warmed up, he steps on the gas pedal and drives off. In almost no time at all, they’re parked under Oikawa’s apartment building. Oikawa gathers his things and is preparing to get out of the car when Iwaizumi, still wrestling with his words, says, with a little hesitation, “If I pass, I’ll be transferred to the main Tokyo team after three months.”

Oikawa stares at him, the car door barely opened a crack. The night air rushes into the car, but neither seem to notice the sudden cold. After a frozen moment, the crease between his eyebrows smooths out and Oikawa breaks into a genuine and content smile. “That’d be perfect. I’ll be waiting for you, Iwa-chan.”

Not willing to continue being apart but not afar in their delicate relationship but not knowing what to do. Originally, he thought even meeting only once a year would be good enough, but he didn’t expect that once they did meet, he would never want to separate again. From his birth until now, he hasn’t been apart from Iwaizumi for longer than the one-year intervals after graduation, each of those three hundred sixty-five days passing agonizingly as if they were three thousand, six hundred fifty days. 

The sense of distance between them always felt like an insurmountable high wall. Whether physical or temporal, Oikawa remained secretly afraid it would change what he once thought was unchangeable by heaven and earth.

But thankfully, luckily, _fortunately_ , what he lifts his head to see now is the same clear, blue sky he has known his entire life.

  
  


*

  
  


Time could change many things. For instance, the ramen restaurant that struggled valiantly for so many years finally succumbed in its last fight. One year later, four people meet once again at the entrance of the now empty and derelict establishment. Huddled against the cold wind, they look at each other, a little helplessly. 

“Oikawa, I think you’ve made a mistake.”

“Who knew they would close just like that‒”

“Then why don’t we go somewhere else? It’s still incredible that you haven’t gotten bored of this place even after eating there every year for so long.”

“Your treat, Oikawa.”

“Wait, why is it me again?”

“‘Cause you deserve it the most, of course~”

After tapping around on his phone, Iwaizumi finds a restaurant nearby that opened recently with not-too-shabby reviews, and loads them all into his car.

“Speaking of which, didn’t you and Iwaizumi come back together from Tokyo this time?”

Oikawa turns around in the front seat, making an incoherent hand gesture in excitement. He beams, as brightly as ever, “Yeah, we live together now.”

“Oho‒” Hanamaki and Matsukawa say from the back of the car in a perfectly harmonized chorus. 

Suddenly sensing the car slowing down, Oikawa turns to face the front again. Through the window, the scenery of the Aoba Johsai campus rolls by, haloed in the golden glow of the sunset. A group of students, fresh off an after-school practice, walk off into the distance, laughing and chatting loudly. Oikawa recognizes the uniforms of the baseball team. 

The sight greets him like an old friend, who has been away for many years and has only just returned for a rare reunion. Unexpected, and caught completely off-guard, waves of an unknown emotion crest and break within the depths of his heart, buoyed not only by his cherished memories of those bygone days or the sight of the school grounds, but more so the people who have once stood by his side and given his youthful years their meaning.

Iwaizumi slowly stops the car, rolls down the window, and takes a breath. “I thought that since the school was close by, we could stop by for a bit. Wanna go out and take a look?”

“The view’s good enough from here, so let’s just stay in the car.” Oikawa props his chin on his hand, still wearing a hint of his usual frivolous smile, but with an added softness around his eyes. Sitting in the back, Hanamaki and Matsukawa too can’t resist the rush of nostalgia and the peculiar sensation of time flowing rapidly right past them.

It is as if, for an instant, they’d seen themselves from the years past, walking home after practice under the same brilliant golden sunset or an evening field of stars, slowly strolling in the shade of the ginkgo trees by the roadside like they have all the time in the world, collectively coercing Oikawa for a couple of his steamed buns, Oikawa grudgingly accepting their bullying and ribbing with the grace of a well-loved team captain.

Just as always, their reunion lasts until the wee hours in the morning. Besides the last-minute switch of locations, not much is different from the previous year. Those meant to be here are still there, carefree and cheerily chattering away. Maybe even they themselves won’t be able to tell what new marks the year has left on them, nor how much things have changed. Yet this group of people in front of Oikawa’s eyes will never fade out of his sight or his memories. That is the best gift to receive after three years of fighting and struggling side by side.

After seeing Hanamaki and Matsukawa off, Oikawa and Iwaizumi set on the car ride home. Halfway, Oikawa visits the convenience store as he did last year, walking out of the store once again to find, just as he remembers, Iwaizumi’s headlights shining back at him, the brightest in the night.

The plastic bag in his hand, stuffed to the point of overflowing, splits open, sending his groceries spilling all over the ground. Oikawa starts before hurriedly bending down to gather all his things back up.

A shadow suddenly blocks the light in front of him. Quick and competent hands reach down to help him pick up his scattered groceries, but not without taking the opportunity to call him, “Dumbass.”

Even without lifting his head, Oikawa knows what kind of expression Iwaizumi must be wearing, and nearly bursts into loud laughter.

Time really is nothing to fear at all.

  
  
  
  
_Fin_.

**Author's Note:**

> hello!!!! first of all my deep thanks to [Feuerlicht](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feuerlicht/pseuds/Feuerlicht) for letting me translate their beautiful fic!! and filling the void the seijou third years left in me :')
> 
> ps. you can find me on my main @saltins


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